Rand crouched in the clearing and studied the ground carefully. From what he could tell there were tracks of several horses and a few hunting dogs.
“Master?” Bron was on his knees beside him. “Master, you know what this means?”
“That they met up with a hunting party from Gradock.”
“More than that, Master,” replied Bron. “Two horses continued in that direction.’ Bron pointed off into the forest. ‘But they left someone here.”
Anxiety became evident in Rand’s eyes, and Bron noticed tension beginning to build up in his master’s frame.
“T’was neither of the ladies, Master.” Bron pointed to the disturbed ground. “There was an almighty fight.”
“The warrior?” asked Rand quickly.
“Yes, Master. I would say that he sent the ladies on alone and held the hunt here so that they could make it to safety.”
“Why were they in danger from the hunt?” asked Rand, turning to survey the surroundings.
Bron shook his head indicating ignorance and Rand sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Very well: for some reason they were in danger from the hunt. The warrior stayed and fought, but it does not seem as though they killed him, there is no blood.”
“No,” agreed Bron. “The fighting was fierce, but when the warrior went down they dragged him over here.” Bron stepped over to where the leaves had been drawn into a pile. “From here they must have lifted him onto a horse.”
“Then Lady Adele is without protection.”
“Perhaps.”
Rand had stood and was making his way back to his horse, but he turned at this utterance and watched as Bron frowned down at the ground.
“What is it?”
Bron hesitated.
“Something that I do not understand.” He pointed again to the forest floor. “This is another two sets of horse tracks which are only a few hours old. They enter from a different direction to the rest. One rider dismounted and followed Lady Adele’s tracks, the other took both horses and returned from whence he came.”
“What!” Rand returned to Bron’s side.
“What is this all about?” he wondered aloud, raising his hand to his brow in bewilderment and closing his eyes.
“Why did the warrior think that Lady Adele would not be safe from Gradock’s men? Why did he prefer to risk sending them away without protection into he knew not what danger? Why did Gradock seize the warrior in the first place with such violence, only to let him go. And why deny him a horse?” Rand looked again to Bron as if appealing for an answer to the conundrum.
“Perhaps, Master, the only way we will ever know is to find the one who makes those tracks.”
Bron caught the bridle of Lord Rand’s horse and led it to his master. It was only when both men were seated on their mounts again that Rand spoke.
“We have followed this man for some days now, Bron, have you not yet learnt that he is harder to keep track of than you might at first think?”
Bron looked vaguely affronted.
“I have yet to meet the man I could not track.”
“And so you doubt that such a man exists?” returned Lord Rand with a grin.
“I shall make you this promise, Master,” replied Bron evenly. “I will follow his tracks to their finish as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow. As to catching him… that I will not promise, for it is a different matter entirely.”
Bron had been studying the ground carefully as he talked, and now he reined in his horse.
“What is it?” asked Rand.
“The tracks split here.”
Rand leaned forwards in his saddle.
“The two horses?”
“No, Master, the two horses went in that direction, but the warrior went east.”
“The warrior is of secondary importance.” Rand shifted, looking worried. “Still; I do not like the idea of being unaware of his whereabouts.”
He paused for a moment.
“You had better take two of the men and follow his tracks. I will follow Lady Adele.”
Bron nodded, but looked a little doubtful.
“Well what is it?” asked Lord Rand at length.
“I was only wondering, Master, if perhaps you might need me here with you?”
“Can you be suggesting, Bron, that you think me incapable of following these tracks without your help?”
Bron belatedly saw his mistake, and found himself speechless. After a few uncomfortable minutes of silence Lord Rand flicked his mount with his leather bridle. “Just so, Bron.”
“I did not…”
“Enough, Bron, the subject becomes tiresome.” Rand’s mount moved forward eagerly, but he reined in again. “Bron!”
“Yes, Master?”
“Bring the warrior to me alive.” Rand hesitated and then smiled. “Be careful.”
“Thank you, Master.”
“You are upon occasion useful to me, Bron.” Rand’s smile wavered, and his voice took on a more serious. “I mean it; keep sharp. The warrior’s movements will be unexpected, they always are.”
“Yes, Master.”
Bron raised his hand in a gesture of farewell, and moved to follow the warrior’s tracks. They lead him away from those his master followed and into a more wooded part of the forest. The going was harder, suited to a man on foot but less suited to a rider on horseback. Bron surmised that it was actually the more direct route over Lord Gradock’s lands, but that the one his master followed was the easier to cover.
He wondered a little at his master, at the eager pace at which he was pursuing his present course. For himself Bron felt that there were far too many unanswered questions about the profitability of such a journey as this. The battle of Calis had been so long ago, surely the bitterness and enmity was better left alone than stirred up all over again.
His master would be better investing his time elsewhere, with some pretty little maid who thought that the sun rose and set at his command. Come to that he would not mind the chance of finding one of those himself.
Bron wasn’t entirely sure what his master expected to gain from his present course. Lord Rand was of a secretive nature, a circumstance that had caused great friction between him and his father. It had probably not helped that Lord Rand had spent part of his childhood at Valrek with Lord Brogan and his son Rafe.
Lord Brogan had not utilised the custom of sending his son to be fostered by another family, but had been happy to accept the sons of other thurls into his home. Along with Lord Rand, Leofric, son to Lord Drogand, had spent part of his childhood at Valrek. So too had Finan and Evoric of Gournay, Lord Gournay’s youngest sons. There had been talk at the time that Lord Rand had been betrothed to Lady Esme of Valrek, that her younger sister, Aisly, would become betrothed to Evoric of Gournay. However Evoric had been killed at the battle of Calis before any betrothal had been announced.
Lord Rand had never made any allusion to Evoric’s death, or to his life at Valrek. Bron had always wondered why. Was it because he had hated to spend his time within Valrek’s walls? Or was it because he had found his life richer there?
Bron did not know, nor was he likely to ask.
-------
Adele snuggled closer to Charger’s neck. It was dark and so very cold, his warmth gave her comfort and her fingers entwined in his mane were the only thing keeping her from losing her seat.
Around her the trees had thinned and they had entered a clearer, flatter terrain. The moon shone brightly, illuminating the desolate landscape with ethereal light. Adele hardly noticed; all she could think of was Finn. She wished that she could forget how it had felt to leave him behind, watching over her shoulder as his figure had become more and more indistinct.
What was happening to him now?
No, she wasn’t sure that that was something she wanted to think about.
Would she ever see him again?
She didn’t really want to think about that either.
How had this
happened?
More importantly how would it end?
She wished so desperately that Lord Rafe were present, then she could throw the burden of her worry upon his shoulders and find relief. He would know what to do surely? Maybe he could save Finn from Lord Gradock? Then again, it was Lord Rafe that Lord Gradock was incensed with. With that in mind it seemed unfair to expect that Lord Rafe could do anything, it was an impossible position all round.
“Eda?”
“What is it?”
“Do you suppose that we are still going in the right direction?”
“For all I know we could be travelling in circles,” sighed Eda. “This is completely ridiculous: I have not the faintest notion where we are, I am so tired I can hardly sit upright. My head aches, along with other parts of my anatomy that I cannot possibly mention. ‘Tis dark and scary, and every time an owl hoots I almost fall from this horse, so why…” Eda’s voice suddenly filled with tears. “Why is it that all I can think of is what that dreadful man might be doing to Finn, whilst we wander aimlessly around the country side doing very little to help ourselves or him!”
Adele reached out across the space that separated her mount from Eda’s, and took her friend’s hand in her own.
“’Tis all I can think of too.”
Eda wiped her tears away angrily.
“So pathetic! Great goodness, I never knew how stupid I could be!”
Both women sat in silence for a moment, listening to the sounds of the forest.
“What should we do?” asked Eda at length. “We have no way of knowing where we are; we could have passed by Merrodon and not known it.”
“Finn said that we would be able to find our way.”
“He said that we should be there by night fall.” Eda gestured hopelessly. “I see no village. Mercia’s border is close, what if we should cross it by accident?”
“Finn told us that we were not to stop, not until we had reached safety. Have you forgotten those who follow us?”
“They must stop and have some respite too, Adele. Just think; if we rest, just for a little while, we could wait until morning and try to think of some plan.”
Adele was tempted; it seemed so logical. Surely Eda was right and that those on their trail needed rest also. She felt so weary, the need to sleep weighed down her eyes and pulled on her whole body. It seem that to lie down and rest just for a moment could not hurt.
Adele shook herself awake. Finn had said to carry on, and if that is what Finn had said, then it was what they must do. She had enough faith in him to know that he was correct.
“It is best that we do just as Finn told us.”
Adele watched Eda nod her head regretfully. The moonlight hid the expression in her eyes but flooded her face, making her appear deathly pale. Adele felt that she was doing the right thing. The thought of those following them, those who had attacked them that first night at the camp, filled her with a fear. She snuggled into her cloak, pulling it up around her face to cover the tip of her ice cold nose. Her fingers were so chilled she could barely grip the rein.
They would have died that first night if it hadn’t been for Finn. She remembered how fierce he had looked standing in the light from the fire, filled with such anger that it had seemed as though he and the flames had somehow been one. Adele frowned, such a statement seemed an exaggeration and yet, no matter how fanciful it sounded, that was how she felt. In any case the fact remained that Finn had saved her and Eda’s lives. They owed him their lives twice over, and it was a circumstance that she was determined to make Lord Rafe and everyone else aware of.
Finn would have his glory, she only hoped that he would live to enjoy it. Adele bit her lip; she wished she had not put that thought into words. It brought tears to smart behind her eyelids. She had realised before that Finan’s life hung in the balance, but it had been unprocessed information hovering on the edge of her consciousness. In giving it the form of a thought, she had taken away the detachment she had hitherto been able to feel when thinking of the danger he was in.
They travelled for some time without speaking, to Adele it was the most miserable silence she had ever endured. At first she didn’t notice the change when it came, but suddenly she was aware that the noise of the horses hooves upon the ground was different. Adele searched her sleepy mind, trying to remember why it was important, and suddenly sat upright with a yell.
“Eda, can you hear?”
Eda gazed at her friend in open worry, she had never seen Adele hysterical but maybe the strain had been too much for her.
“Hear what?”
“Clip, clop, clip, clop!” replied Adele, giggling in relief.
Eda reined in her horse abruptly.
“That is it, we have to stop! ‘Tis too much; you are tired and beginning to scare me.”
Adele caught Eda’s arm as she made to dismount.
“No, wait! Finn said that there would be a road, remember? He said that we would come across a stone road built by the Romans, and that we should follow it because it would lead us to Merrodon.”
“And?”
“Did you not hear? We have just come across it, the horses hooves began to make a different noise: clip, clop…?” Adele’s voice trailed off, and she gazed at Eda in an open plea for understanding.
Eda was tired, confused, and slightly worried by Adele’s behaviour. Still she managed to grasp that suddenly, mercifully, not only did they now know where they were, but also how to proceed onto Merrodon. Strangely enough though, however great her relief was, all she managed by way of rejoinder was to murmur a faint ‘oh good’. Adele looked rather taken aback.
“Yes, it… it is pretty good,” she replied, some of her exuberance disappearing. “We should reach Merrodon without trouble now.” She leaned forwards over Charger’s neck. “We are almost there, boy. I know you are tired but just a little longer and then you can rest.”
Adele straightened and turned back to Eda, a sudden look of quiet determination settling over her features.
“Come, Eda; the sooner we make it to Merrodon, the sooner we can tell Lord Rafe of all that has happened.”
Eda nodded her head in agreement and gathered Valliant’s reins in her hands.
“And the sooner we can help Finn,” Eda finished quietly.
Chapter Sixteen